Picture Perfect
by SabrinasMom3
Summary: COMPLETED! Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Now that they were a "couple", things were going to be different. There were so many things he wanted to show her and so much he wanted them to do together. Most of it was small stuff, to most everyone else anyway. He loved it when she held his hand in the hall now. It made his heart jump and gave him a rush. One of the first "normal" things he wanted to do was have her over to just veg out and watch TV. He knew it didn't seem like a big deal, but it was important to him. He asked her to come over on Friday and he promised her pizza and licorice if she came. He didn't even have to do the puppy dog eyes to get her to agree.

Grace's first instinct at the invitation was to panic and make up an excuse. That passed quickly however, as she reminded herself that this was a person and a family she could trust. There was no reason to keep them at an arms length like she had all the others. They knew her secret and cared about her anyway, maybe even more because of it. It was a first for them though. The movie date didn't quite work out and Luke's birthday dinner was, well, non-existent. It was like this would be their first date. Every time she thought about it her stomach started to bubble and she felt like she might be sick, but in a good way. It wasn't like her to get excited, but it was all she could do to keep her hands steady the rest of the day.

After school they faced their first real challenge, deciding on a movie. They ended up choosing two each and agreeing to watch them in whatever order they were pulled out of the bag. Neither one of them really cared what they watched. Who know if they would even pay any attention to the movie.

When they got to the Girardi's, no one was there. Dad and Kevin were still at work, Joan was at Adam's and Mom hadn't gotten home yet. Challenge number two: agree on pizza toppings. Who would have thought that they were both big mushroom fans. Wow, this was easier than he thought it was going to be. By the time they ate some pizza, popped some corn and settled in, the family had returned, eaten and dispersed to various areas of the house, leaving them alone to watch their movies.

As the first movie started, Grace leaned back on Luke's shoulder and felt a warm wave run through her. For the smallest second, she didn't recognize the feeling. It had been a very long time since she had felt this comfortable and relaxed, especially outside of her own room and then, only when the rest of her house was empty. Even at night after her parents had gone to bed, she had trouble relaxing enough to get to sleep. She was up late most nights, sometimes never going to sleep at all. But here, now, with Luke, she felt like she was floating in warm, still water. That was the last coherent thought she had before she let her eyes slowly shut, only thirty minutes into the movie, one of her movies.

Luke wasn't sure exactly when Grace fell asleep, but the movie wasn't even half over when he realized his arm had gone numb. He was determined to suffer, no matter how much it ached or tingled, in order not to disturb her. He was actually relieved when his mother poked her head in the living room to check on them. "Mom, what do I do?" he whispered. This was a new problem for him, one that he, even with his infinite knowledge of all things science, couldn't solve. His mom got a silly, lopsided grin on her face, then ran out of the room. Well, that was helpful. She was back in couple minutes though. With a camera! What was she doing? Not only was she not helping, but she would probably wake Grace up. And if Grace woke up to someone taking her picture…He dared not think of what she might do. He gritted his teeth and growled angrily at his mom. Her response was to disappear again. This time, returning with Joan. What was she doing, paying admission? Joan got all dreamy eyed and grinned at them, just like mom did. But at least after getting a good gawk in, she tried to help. Joan held Grace's head while Luke scooted out, then helped him, lower her down. Luke swung Grace's legs up onto the couch, took her shoes off and covered her up, amazed that she hadn't even flinched. It was a beautiful site. His Grace, with no tension, no anger, no worries. It was a so beautiful and so rare, that he couldn't help grabbing the camera away from his mother and snapping a couple of shots of his own. He didn't care if she woke up and maimed him. These pictures would be worth it.

It was Joan's idea to have their mom call Grace's dad to explain what happened and get his permission for her to stay the night. Luke never would have dared suggest that his girlfriend sleep over. But Grace was, after all, Joan's best friend too. His mom eyed him suspiciously until he shot his hand in the air and made the boy scout promise sign. Then she shook her head and went to make the call.

She had to assure the rabbi that the situation was all very innocent and guarantee that she would chaperone diligently before he relented. Luke sat on the living room floor staring at Grace until Joan kicked him out so she could set up her sleeping bag on the floor (part of her mom's master chaperone plan or early security system). She was finally able to shove him out of the room and up the stairs.

He went to bed, but for a long time he didn't sleep. How could he when every time he closed his eyes he could see her face and he know she was there, just a couple of floors below him. He remembered the way she breathed lightly and evenly and how her mouth looked like she was just about to smile. During those moments he sat watching her she looked more at ease than he had ever seen her and more beautiful than he could ever have imagined anyone could be. The thought of her was so overwhelming that he caught himself starting to cry. Not because he was sad, but because he was grateful. Grateful to know her and grateful that she was his. Of course, he would never dare tell her he thought of her as his. That might cost him a limb. He smiled at that thought and finally succumbed to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Luke wasn't sure if he'd even slept, though he must have. He woke up several times throughout the night and finally gave up trying to get back to sleep at around 7 a.m. This was good though, because he'd had an idea at some point during the night, whether he was asleep or awake at the time, he had no idea.

Luke got up, got dressed and quietly went downstairs. He stopped in at the living room to check on Grace. She was still there, still sleeping and still beautiful. He got a little lost in looking at her and almost forgot what he was doing.

He hurried into the kitchen and stood there for a moment. How hard could it be? He was a genius after all and following a recipe wasn't that different from doing a Chemistry experiment, right? Of course, in Chemistry, if you mixed together the wrong components or got the wrong quantities, it could cause an explosion. Doing that while attempting to make pancakes would just make them taste gross. So, he decided, since there didn't seem to be much of a risk of physical harm to anyone who might eat his concoction, he was going to give it a whirl. Applying his scientific knowledge to food was a pretty easy transition, except that food proved to be a lot messier than chemicals. His mom wouldn't be happy with that.

Now, he was racking his brain trying to remember if it was blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes. Or did she ever even specify? He couldn't remember, but they had frozen blueberries, so what the heck, he threw them in, too.

When he finished, he was surprised to find that no one was up and about yet. It sounded like his parents were moving around upstairs, but no one had come down yet. When he went to check on the girls, Joan had her eyes open, but didn't look like she was getting up any time soon. Luke waved his arms from the doorway to get Joan's attention without making any sounds. She gave him her "you-are-insane" look and shook her head as she got up and quietly left the room. He told her what he'd done and told her that the rest of the batter was hers if she would just go away. Without a word, she shook her head and headed upstairs. Like SHE was going to make pancakes. Right.

It took him so long to organize a tray with the plate of buttered and syruped pancakes, a glass of milk, a glass of juice, a cup of coffee (he didn't know what she'd want), a napkin and utensils, that he was afraid the pancakes might have gone cold, but they hadn't. Sometimes being a perfectionist was annoying, even to himself. Finally, he was ready.

When he walked into the living room, Grace was still sleeping. It made him wonder if she ever got a good night's sleep at home. She must have been exhausted. He walked over and set the tray on the floor while he sat down on the coffee table.

"Grace. Grace wake up," he whispered, afraid to wake her too suddenly and startle her. Her eyelids fluttered for just a moment and almost decided just to stay closed, but Luke leaned in and kissed her gently, just for good measure. She was still in a fog when his lips touched hers and for a second she squeezed her eyes shut and willed the dream not to end. But when she let her eyes open and looked up, she realized it wasn't a dream. He was here, kissing her awake. What the…? It took a minute for what little there was of last night to come back to her. She must have fallen asleep. Her dad was going to freak. Oh well, wouldn't be the first time.

Luke picked up the tray and held it out to her. She sat up and looked at the tray, then back at Luke with a puzzled look. "Breakfast in…well, couch I guess," he said with a goofy smile. Grace hardly heard him. To anyone else, this might look like a simple, sweet gesture, but Grace knew that Luke knew that this was so much more.

She took the tray and started to eat. He had made her pancakes. He knew that the last time she participated in a sleepover it was supposed to end just like this, with homemade pancakes. Instead it just ended, along with the first friendship she ever had. If not for Adam and Joan, it would have been the only friendship she ever had. Luke was trying to put right what went wrong for her so long ago. He didn't care that it had nothing to do with him or that it wasn't his responsibility. He just wanted to make it all better, to heal her wounds and help her rebuild her broken psyche. She didn't think anyone had ever done anything so wonderful for her in her entire life. She leaned over the plate hoping that her hair would fall over her face and prevent him from seeing the tear that escaped down her cheek.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Note: Chapter 4 is already written, but I'm not posting it for a couple days. Dramatic suspense and everything. Well, that and I'm evil.

A few weeks later, Luke rushed into the kitchen to grab something quick and easy for breakfast before meeting Grace. His mom called to him just as he was opening the door. "Luke, why don't you ask Grace to dinner tonight." What she was up to? "Why?" he asked suspiciously. "She hasn't been here in a while…Just ask her." He agreed, but left the house confused and shaking his head. This family got stranger every day.

Even after they had gone public with their relationship, they still met almost every morning in the science room closet. Grace wasn't into the whole touchy feely thing in public, but alone, she more than made up for it. They both loved this morning ritual. When they had only about five minutes left before classes started, Luke reluctantly pulled away from her. He asked her to dinner that night, as his mother requested. She thought it was a little odd too, but the possibility of getting him to herself after dinner held too much appeal to say no. She decided to be greedy and asked if he minded if she came home with him right after school. She might have been being selfish, but he took it as HER doing something nice for HIM.

After school they had a few minutes alone before the others got home. They took full advantage by attacking each other as soon as they got through the door. They were still tangled up on the couch when his mom got home. Luckily, she came in the kitchen door and loudly announced her arrival. Luke and Grace jumped apart and both tried smoothing down their hair. They looked at each other and giggled. Grace's eyes got huge as she realized what she had just done. Grace Polk does NOT giggle. She made a mental note not to let it happen again and Luke grinned at her as if he could read her every thought. "What?" she snapped. He just shook his head and kept grinning as he hollered a greeting to his mom.

Girardis continued to filter in until everyone was home and dinner was ready. The closer it got to dinnertime, the more active the butterflies in her stomach got. Grace loved being with Luke, tolerated and sometimes even liked being with Joan and didn't mind being in the same room with Helen. Kevin she didn't have much experience with and Will was just a male authority figure to be polite to while internally ranting about the injustice of "the man". But being in the same room with all of them together was one of the scariest things Grace could think of. Taken alone, each Girardi was just another person, but together, they were a family. A family to which Grace didn't belong and couldn't relate to. It was like tossing some sodium bi-carbonate into a pool of acetic acid and expecting normalcy. "Oh God, I just used a science metaphor!" she thought in horror.

The later it got, the more she was tempted to make a run for it. But Grace resisted and when it was finally time, Grace took her seat next to Luke at the table. Mostly she sat and listened and observed. Studying a traditional American family in their natural habitat was actually quite fascinating. Will talked to Kevin, Kevin talked to Helen and Joan tried to keep everyone's attention focused on her. Luke sat and ate and listened as though he was as much of an outsider as she was. She couldn't help wondering if it was always like this or if he was not participating so that she didn't feel left out. Every now and then, Helen would look back and forth between Grace and Luke nervously as if there was something she wanted to say.

Luke normally didn't mind not being included in the dinner conversation, it was just the way it was. Tonight however, he didn't try to interject like he usually did because he didn't want to be ignored and dismissed in front of Grace. He hoped she didn't notice. His mom was looking at them again. What was going on? And did they really want to know?

Finally, after everyone had eaten dessert, Helen called for attention. "As most of you know, I have been working with the Art-cadia Gallery in town on having my own art exhibit. Well, the date has been set for two weeks from tonight." Everyone gave her their praise and compliments. "Everything is all set to go the gallery, but I have two paintings left that I haven't given my final approval on and I was kind of hoping to get that out of the way tonight." Grace looked up to see her looking right at her and smiling uncertainly. She beckoned Luke and Grace into the living room and asked the others to give them a minute.

Grace and Luke exchanged confused and worried looks as they followed her. Luke's mind went into search mode trying to figure out what paintings his mom could possibly be talking about. Grace was just so dumbfounded that she found it hard to think at all.

"I think these are two of the best paintings I've ever done, but I couldn't in good conscience send them to be displayed without discussing it with the two of you." Grace shot daggers at Luke, but all he could do was shrug his shoulders. When he turned back to his mother, she was holding up two paint covered canvases. "Well, can I use them?" she asked.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Luke squeezed Grace's hand, then let it go before they walked into the Art-cadia Gallery together. They wandered through the crowd looking at the paintings, listening to random people's compliments and criticisms. There was quite a large turnout for his mother's first exhibit and he was glad. His mom was so excited. As Grace suspected (and feared), there were a lot of kids from school here to see their art teacher's creations. Beside each painting was a little yellow tag with the name of the painting and how much it would cost to buy. It looked like Mrs. G put as much thought into the titles as she did the paintings themselves. Grace was impressed with the titles chosen, though not so much with the blatant commercialism evident in the suggested prices.

They noticed that a group of young people had seemed to gather in one particular corner of the room. They recognized most of them from school, which made Luke somewhat eager and Grace fairly reluctant to join them. Grace took a deep breath, then needing some extra strength, she uncharacteristically grabbed Luke's hand.

As they approached, the crowd became aware of them and moved aside, growing quiet. Some of the group wandered off respectfully and mingled with the crowd, while the rest rushed off in fear of Grace's reaction. By the time they reached the paintings that were causing such a stir, the area had all but cleared out.

The two of them stood there, silently admiring the paintings. The one on the left was set in the Girardi living room and showed two teenagers. The boy in the painting had glasses and sandy blonde hair and sat staring straight ahead at something out of view. He had his left arm draped over the girl sitting next to him. The girl's eyes were closed and her head was laid back on the boys shoulder. Everything about the painting was life-like and realistic. It was simple…and beautiful. Neither Luke nor Grace had ever thought to ask what the paintings were named, so Grace leaned over to read the little yellow tag. The painting's title was "Trust" and the tag said that it was not for sale. Grace was relieved. The thought of a painting of her hanging in someone else's living room was more than a little disturbing.

She turned to the second painting, also set in the Girardi living room. Grace thought that this painting had a more artistic feel to it than the other. This painting showed a single subject, a teenage girl with short blonde hair, lying asleep. She seemed to radiate a soft warm glow, as if there were a fireplace flickering in front of her, instead of a television. Grace was sure that this had more to do with artistic license than with anything that could have truly been seen. The subject's face was relaxed and there were no worry lines or creases or frowns or scowls. In fact, she looked as though she were on the verge of breaking into a smile. She was lying on her side with her right arm folded under her head and her left hand tucked under her chin. There was one small section of hair that fell across her left eye and rested on her smooth, flushed cheek. Grace had to admit, to herself at least, that in the painting she looked closer to happy than she had ever seen herself. Grace found the yellow tag, curious to see what it said. The tag read:

"Peace"

Property of Grace Polk


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

A couple weeks later, Grace came home from Luke's carrying her painting. She was too busy trying to decide where in her room she wanted to put it to anticipate what might be going on inside the house. As soon as the front door clicked closed, Grace's mom started calling her. "Gracie, come here. Spend some time with your mom. Where have you been?" She staggered out into the foyer, a glass of wine in one hand and the other clutching at anything nearby to steady her. Grace started toward the stairs, but her mother intercepted her. "What have you got there, sweetie?" Grace bowed her head and mumbled, "It's just a painting, Mom. I'm going to bed." "Not so fast, let me see." But Grace wasn't ready to share something that meant as much to her as this painting did with her intoxicated mother. As Grace tried to push past her, her mom got a glimpse of the painting and got agitated, "Gracie, that looks like you! Why can't I see? What is it, a nude portrait? What did you do pose naked?" Grace tucked the painting under her arm and started up the stairs, but for a staggering drunk, her mom was pretty quick. As Grace brought her foot down on the third step, her mom grabbed the corner of the painting and pulled it with surprising strength. Grace tried to hold on to it, but in doing so, she was thrown off balance. Grace started to fall backwards down the stairs. In what seemed to her like slow motion, Grace fell back into her mother. Her mother let go of the painting as the two of them traveled toward the floor. Grace was still pulling on the painting so when her mother let go, Grace unintentionally pulled the painting forward, smacking herself in the face with the corner of the frame. That happened about the same time that Grace and her mother hit the floor. Between the force of hitting the floor and the momentum of the painting, Grace lost her grip and the painting when sailing. Although Grace couldn't see where it landed, she could hear it. A rush of panic and sorrow swept over her as she heard the distinct sound of tearing canvas.

Grace jumped to her feet, scooped the painting off the floor where it landed after hitting the corner of the table, and ran up to her room. She locked the door as she heard her mom's shaky footsteps following her up the stairs. Grace threw her headphones on, but was unable to block out her mother's slurred rantings. She was going on about how posing nude was as bad as being a stripper, which usually led to prostitution and how could she do that to her father and didn't she have any sense of responsibility to the family name and to her father's congregation and on and on and on. Grace sat on the bed with her hands pressed against her headphones trying not to hear. She looked through her blurred eyes at the slash in her painting and felt as bad as if she herself had been cut.

Like a toy whose batteries are running out, Grace's mom's words started slowing down and running together and the volume of her voice became less and less thunderous until eventually she became inaudible. Grace listened as her mom leaned against the wall, then slowly slid down to sit on the floor and finally slumped over. Grace carefully opened the door. Her mom was sprawled out on the floor across the threshold of the door. Grace quickly grabbed her jacket and her painting, stepped over her unconscious mother and hurried out of the house.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Note:I wasn't going to post again so soon, but Anti-Like-Grace begged, so this is for you ALG.

Chapter 6

Grace wasn't so much upset that her mom was drunk or that they had had an argument, but she was devastated that her painting had been damaged. This was the one thing in all the world that belonged to her alone. Not so much the painting itself, but what it represented: her soul, not her tortured soul, that everyone saw, but her true, deep, inner soul. The one that she kept locked safe away so it couldn't get hurt. The one that had come out briefly during the only time she was vulnerable. Grace knew she never slept like that at home. At home she was always in ready mode. Ready to jump up and run if it became necessary. This painting represented what Grace wanted to be able to be, someday perhaps, even while awake.

Grace wasn't sure where she was going or what she was doing, she just zoned her mind out and let her feet take over. She almost forgot that she was walking. She felt like she was floating around aimlessly and weightlessly, drifting from place to place, but never getting anywhere. Lucky for her, her feet were creatures of habit and, following Grace's most frequented path, led her directly to the only place she could get help.

Grace looked up, startled to see that she was standing at the Girardi's front door. She didn't remember the walk here, just a fuzzy, sleepy feeling, like being under hypnosis. "Of course", Grace thought, "who better to fix the painting than the artist." If anyone could fix it, Mrs. Girardi could.

Grace knocked on the door and waited. Mrs. Girardi gasped when she saw Grace standing there, but Grace didn't seem to notice. She rushed through the door and held out the painting. "Can you fix it?" But she wasn't looking at the painting, she was looking at Grace's eyes. They were sad and pleading, like a child's. "Please, Mrs. G, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, is there anything you can do?" Grace pleaded. Mrs. Girardi finally looked down at the painting and fingered the rip carefully. "Grace, I can fix the painting, that's not a problem, but we need to fix you first." Then she turned and yelled up the stairs for Luke.

Grace was puzzled. "I don't understand what you're talking about." Mrs. Girardi took Grace by the shoulders and turned her around to face the mirror on the wall. Grace just stared at herself. She had no idea that was how she looked. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her nose was red. Her hair was messy and wild. There was a dried trickle of blood running down her chin and her lip was purple and swollen where she'd been hit with the painting. No wonder Mrs. Girardi had looked so worried.

When it finally dawned on her what she really looked like, she was stunned. Just then she heard Luke start down the stairs. Before he could see her, she attempted to escape through the front door, but his legs were longer than hers and he caught up to her as she opened the door.

"Hey, Grace. Where you go…ing." The sight of his Grace's beautiful face swollen and discolored broke his heart. He nearly burst into tears on the spot, but almost immediately his feelings turned to complete anger. "Grace, what did she do to you?" he cried as he cupped her face in his hands.

Grace's terrified eyes went from him to his mother and back to him. "It was an accident," she whispered. "No Grace, I'm not letting you hide it. She's gone too far this time. You either tell us what happened, or I'm calling the police and you can tell them."

Grace let Luke lead her into the kitchen. She sat down at the table while his mother fixed her a cup of coffee and Luke got her a damp cloth to wash her face. He knelt on the floor next to her chair and examined her cut. At least it didn't need stitches. He got up and got her an ice pack, all the while, seething inside. He imagined several possible scenarios, but he couldn't make any of them look remotely like an accident, no matter how hard he tried.

They all sat down and Grace recounted everything that happened. Once she was finished, she sighed and said, "See, so it really was just an accident." Luke shook his head. "You getting hurt might have been an accident, but her getting drunk wasn't. And ultimately, that makes her responsible." Grace turned to look at his mom. She nodded in agreement. She was looking at Grace all simpy like Luke did when he first found out. Grace couldn't take that. She leaped up and started pacing. "Well what the hell do you want from me! There's nothing I can do. I can only control me and my actions, right!"

Luke responded with his own rant. "You're right Grace, you can't control her and you can't feel responsible for her, but by doing nothing you are letting HER control YOU. I worry about what might happen next. Maybe its irrational and maybe its selfish and maybe you'll pummel me for it, but I feel like its by job to protect you and take care of you. I can't stand seeing you hurt emotionally and seeing you hurt physically has really taken me over the edge. If it were up to me, I'd lock you in my room and never let you go back there. I want to make it all better, but I know I can't. All I can do is be here for you."

Luke finally took a breath. He got up, walked over to Grace and pulled her into a hug. He was so upset that he was shaking. As they stood there, Luke tilted his face toward her and very quietly whispered in her ear. "I know you're not ready to hear me say how I feel, but I hope you're able to see it." With that he pressed the side of his face to her cheek, brushed his lips across hers and strode quickly out of the room. Grace reached up to dry her cheek, but the tears left there were not hers.

For the first time, Grace realized that nothing was about just her anymore and it never would be again. There was someone in this world who cared about her so much, that her every thought and action effected him too. Her mother could step on her feelings, tear out pieces of her heart and even leave her physically bruised, but she would not, could not tolerate her mother hurting Luke through her. Her mind was made up. She turned to Luke's mom. "I think I have a plan. I'll need your help."


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Author's Note: OK, sorry it took so long, but this Chapter seemed so short. I haven't decided where to go from here yet.

Chapter 7

Hand in hand, Grace and Luke walked up the front walk of the Polanski home. Grace stopped at the door and turned to Luke. "Remember, you are just here for moral support and help me get out quicker. As hard as it will be, please don't say anything or interfere. I have to do this myself." Luke nodded in agreement. Grace took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. She could hear her heart beating in her ears and anticipation and panic tingled over the surface of her skin.

As she opened the door, she handed Luke the piece of paper with a list of absolute necessities and sent him upstairs to pack her a bag. She listened to see if she could tell whether her mom was awake or still passed out in the upstairs hallway. There was no sign of her, but Grace could hear the scratching of a pen and the shuffling of paper in her dad's office. As she approached the doorway her father looked up. "Hi Gracie, did you need something?" His expression changed when she stepped fully into the room where he could see her face more clearly. He stood up and rushed over to her. "What happened, who did this?" he asked. "Sit down Dad, we need to talk."

He returned to his seat and Grace sat in the chair in front of his desk. Grace's voice cracked a little as she began to speak. "First of all, your wife did this. Second of all, I'm only here to find out what you're going to do about it. I can't live like this any longer and I shouldn't have to. You only have three options." Her father started to speak, but she put her hand up to stop him. "No. You need to listen to what I have to say. This is the way it is going to have to be. You can talk Mom into checking into a rehab center. There she can get the help she needs to quit drinking. If you can't convince her, you'll have to make her to move out. If you can't or won't do one of these two things, then you'll have decided on option three. If you decide that Mom can stay here and continue to drink, I won't be coming back. You have one week to decide what we're going to do, until then, I'll be staying with the Girardi's." With that, Grace turned away from her shocked father and walked out of the office. Luke was waiting at the front door with her bag. When he saw her, he opened the door and they walked out together. About the time they reached the bottom of the front steps, her father finally recovered enough to speak. They could hear him yelling for Grace to come back as they headed down the walkway.

Authors Note: Like I said, I'm not sure where to go from here. I could end the story here. Or I could have the Rabbi make a choice. Any suggestions?


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I guess I was wrong to think I could quietly bow out of this story without anyone noticing. I'm glad you are enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it!

The walk home was quiet. Grace, of course, was thinking about how things went with her father and what the future might be like, depending on his choice.

Luke, on the other hand, couldn't get his mind off what he had just seen at the Polanski home.

After leaving Grace in the foyer, Luke had hurried up the stairs, anxious to get her bag packed and get downstairs before she was finished talking to her dad. When he got to the top of the stairs, he was hit with a stench worse than anything he had ever before experienced. It was a mixture of a strong sour smell accented by sickeningly sweet fruitiness, the stab of alcohol and a hint of sweat and body odor. He looked down and saw Grace's mom sprawled out on the floor in front of Grace's door. Her mouth was wide open and there was a puddle of old vomit pooled around her head. Her lids were half open, but her eyes appeared to be rolled back in her head. At first, Luke thought she might be dead, but then she snorted out a snore. He shook his head and stepped over her into Grace's room. He found a bag and started throwing things from list in. He just couldn't believe that Grace had to deal with this on a daily basis. He knew, intellectually, what alcoholism was like, but he'd never seen it before and now realized that he didn't have the first clue how bad it really was. He tried to imagine seeing his parents like that, but he couldn't. He had all he could do not to cry for Grace. What proved even more difficult was resisting the urge to haul off and kick the comatose drunk on his way back out the door.

When they walked into the house, Luke's mom was on the phone and looking none too happy about it. "Mr. Polanski, I don't think you are fully aware of the seriousness of this situation…Yes, I am allowing Grace to stay here, as a friend of the family, but if you insist on threatening me…Sir, with all due respect, you may be her father but technically, I am a teacher and my husband is a police officer and as such, if we believe that this incident qualifies as an ongoing abusive situation, we are both obligated, under the law, to report it to the proper authorities…No, I don't want that either, which is why Grace is staying with us until you can make other arrangements." With that, she held the phone up and looked at it to make sure he had hung up on her before ending the call.

Luke and Grace both just stood there with their mouths hanging open. If Grace was the kind of person who did that sort of thing, which she wasn't, she would have hugged Mrs. Girardi then and there. Luckily, Luke was. He rushed over and pulled his mother into an all out bear hug. He had never been so proud of her. Although the worry lines on her forehead were still visible, she couldn't help but laugh at her son's crushing show of affection.

"Alright, alright. You're a lot stronger than when you hugged me as a little boy. Let me go before you break a rib." Luke did as he was told and started to turn away. Then he thought better of it and turned back to plant a big kiss on his mom's cheek. She just shook her head and walked out of the room.

Not knowing what else to do, Luke and Grace settled in on the couch to watch TV until dinner. It wasn't unusual for Grace to be there, so no one really noticed anything odd until dinnertime. Everyone was already at the table when the couple went to sit down. Grace had almost forgotten how bad she looked until Mr. Girardi, Kevin and Joan sat staring at her. Once the initial shock was over, Joan jumped out of her chair and ran over to Grace. Grace held her hand up to stop Joan. "Whoa, Girardi! I'm fine. Sit down and eat your dinner. I'll fill you in while you eat. I don't think I could eat anything yet anyway."

"I thought that might be a problem, Grace, so I made some soup for you. I hope you like chicken noodle." Once again, Grace was amazed by the compassion and thoughtfulness of this family. As the Girardis ate and Grace sipped her soup, Grace told the cliff notes version of the story to Joan and the others. Luke and Mrs. Girardi added commentary now and then. When she was finished, Mrs. Girardi looked hopefully at her husband. "I'm sorry I didn't speak with you before saying Grace could stay, but there really wasn't time and I really didn't think anyone would mind." She looked at him expectantly. He grinned and shook his head. "Like it would have made any difference what I said anyway. I haven't been this outnumbered since I wanted to go to Alcatraz instead of Disneyland during our family vacation." When he spoke to Grace, he turned serious. "You're welcome to stay here this week and any time you don't feel safe at home." Grace nodded slightly, looked down at her soup and pretended to look for stray noodles.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I hope this chapter is long enough to hold you over for a while. I'll be on vacation and computerless (oh the horror) all next week. Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Grace laid in the dark trying to sleep. She had been able to take all thoughts of her father's possible decisions and what it might mean for the rest of her life and put them out of her mind. So it wasn't that she couldn't sleep, she just didn't truly want to. Why would she when she was here in his bed surrounded by everything Luke? She tried to close her eyes a couple of times, but it didn't help, not when her other senses were still working. His smell was like a drug for her. It calmed her and excited her at the same time. She loved that smell, but it wasn't because of the cologne he wore. She put a stop to his excessive cologne use at the very beginning. She was gentle though, for Grace. She lied and told him she was allergic. Luke's smell now consisted of his natural scent mixed with laundry detergent and soap. And she couldn't get enough of it. She was pretty sure that he had noticed how she breathed him in when they were together, but he wisely said nothing about it. She wasn't entirely certain whether that was because he was afraid to or because he was just being nice. She tended to think it was the latter. Look at their history. What was the word he used that first night? Gentlemanly. Luke was a gentleman. He walked her home that night when he didn't have to, he kept their secret when he shouldn't have, he knew when to just listen and when she needed to be held and tonight, he insisted that she needed her privacy and that she sleep in his room while he took the couch. How could she sleep when she couldn't stop smiling. But, then again, all these things slowly relaxed Grace and put her at ease. The night in the painting was the only night she had slept so soundly, until tonight. When she finally calmed down and quit grinning like a fool, she was quickly claimed by sleep.

Luke was two floors below on the couch. Awake. It wasn't that the couch was uncomfortable because it wasn't, he just couldn't seem to shut his mind off. Usually it wasn't a problem that his mind was continuously going, because it was habitually running through equations or scientific principles or some other cold hard facts. Tonight, his mind was solely on Grace. Everything that she had been through in the past twelve hours kept replaying over and over in his mind. He was a problem solver, but people couldn't be solved or fixed. He couldn't come up with a logical scientific theorem that could make this all better. He had issues with that, but he was trying to get over them. Then, on the personal side, he was angry. Grace deserved so much better than that. She deserved to be treated with respect and with reverence. Again, that was him and he couldn't control anyone else. He finally had to make a conscious effort to switch gears. He tried instead to think about what this week would be like, having Grace here in his home. He smiled. He had the feeling that this was going to be very interesting.

The next day was Monday and everyone had to get up and get ready for school and for work. Despite all the stress of the day before, Grace uncharacteristically woke up early. She figured it was because she got a very restful sleep. She padded downstairs in her pajamas and helped herself to breakfast before anyone else was up. Then she went back upstairs to shower and get dressed. She was just about to get out of the shower when there was a knock and Luke yelled through the door, "Come on Joan, we all need to get ready!" Grace smiled and yelled back, "I'm not Joan and if you don't quit rushing me I'm going to give you a face to match mine!" Luke stammered an apology and then headed back downstairs to eat. Once she was sure he was out of earshot, she laughed out loud. She loved it when she could get to him like that. She got out, wrapped up in a towel and hurried back up to Luke's room to get ready for school.

Luke got to the kitchen then thought that it would probably be best if he went up and got his clothes out of his room while Grace was busy in the shower. He hurried up the stairs and listened at the bathroom door. The shower was running, so he figured the coast was clear. Which was why he opened his door without knocking and bounded up the stairs, only to face a stark naked and very startled Grace. Luke quickly turned his back to her. "What are you doing up here. You were just in the shower and its still running." Grace didn't answer. "I guess it must be Joan." Still, he got no response from Grace. "Grace, I'm sorry. Are you mad?" He was just about to hurry out of the room when a pillow thwaped him in the back of the head. "Just hurry up and do whatever it was you came in here to do, before the embarrassment wears off and I get angry."

His plan was to try to get his clothes without ever looking directly at Grace, but when he tried, he realized that she was standing right in front of his dresser. She was wrapped in a damp towel that he had never realized was so small before. He kept his eyes down, but he could still see her bare feet and calves, droplets of water still shimmering on them. It was almost too much for him. Then, he remembered something he had heard somewhere and started reciting Newton's Laws to himself to get his mind of her. He scooped up his clothes and ran out of the room without ever looking at or saying another word to Grace.

When he had first turned around, Grace found it amusing, and a little endearing, that he refused to look at her. She couldn't help noticing the way his breath caught when he looked at her feet. Did he have a strange fetish she didn't know about? She looked at him with a puzzled look, like he might be just a little crazy, but he never looked at her. He just got red and started mumbling something under his breath until he practically ran out the door. She shook her head at him. She seemed to be doing that a lot.

Grace sat down for a minute to think about how she felt about him seeing her like that. He'd seen her cry. He'd seen her bruised and bloody. He'd seen her sleeping. She guessed him seeing her naked wasn't any more embarrassing than any of that stuff. Grace got the feeling that he might be more embarrassed than she was. She liked the thought of that.

Now that that was settled, she figured she better get ready. She didn't care about being late herself, but she knew that Luke wouldn't leave without her and she knew he wouldn't want to be late. Suddenly Grace realized that if she was at home right now, she would be rushing out to meet him in the biology closet. Were they going to lose their make out time while she was here? Not a chance! Grace dressed quickly, ran downstairs and grabbed her bag.

She rushed into the kitchen and saw that he was still sitting at the table eating. "Let's go, geek, I've got something I need to do before school." Grace hadn't noticed Joan at the other end of the kitchen until she said, "Let him finish eating. It'll give us a couple minutes to try to do something about your face." Grace started to glare at her before realizing that the bruise on her face must still look horrible.

Joan took Grace upstairs and helped her put on some conceler and powder to cover the now purple and green bruise. Most of the swelling had gone down, but there was still a cut on her lip. Joan made sure Grace put the makeup in her bag, then said, "There. Now just don't forget to touch it up when your finished making out with my brother. Now go, before classes start and you can't get into the biology closet." Grace gave Joan a dirty look, but then smiled and yelled a thank you as she took off back down the stairs.

Luke never thought he would see the day when Grace practically ran to school. "Grace, wait up. Why are you going so fast? Where do you need to go?" Grace stopped and turned to face him. "What kind of genius are you? I'm going the same place I always go this time of day, but if you're going to insist on going so slow, there's really no point in me being there by myself." Luke's jaw dropped open, but when he saw the look in Grace's eyes, he grabbed her hand and took of in a sprint toward the school.

When they got to the biology closet, they were both out of breath. That was usually the case as they were leaving the room, not going into it. The couple leaned against the door and started laughing at themselves. "I thought that after what happened this morning…well, I didn't realize…" Grace interrupted him, "Look, we may be spending all sorts of time together now that I'm staying at your house, but I'm not giving this time up. So you saw me naked. With any luck it won't be the last time. Now get over here before our time's up and I really do get mad."

With that she grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and yanked him to her. He certainly wasn't about to argue, especially not with the sight of her in that little towel, and out of that little towel, fresh in his mind. He returned her enthusiasm by grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close. When their eyes locked in that moment before their lips met, it was as if he could see the fire he was feeling reflected there. As their kiss deepened and became more and more passionate, Luke started to lose himself. He went just a little too far and playfully, but forcefully bit her bottom lip. Grace winced let out a small gasp snapping Luke back to reality as he remembered that her lip had been gashed and bruised just yesterday. He let her go and jumped back away from her, concern and guilt overwhelming him. Grace looked up and thought she saw tears forming in his eyes. She gave a half laugh and tried to reassure him that she was fine. "Knock it off Girardi. I'm not that fragile. Besides, how do you know I don't like that sort of thing." She tilted her head and gave him a sly, devious smile. He couldn't help but smile back. He still felt bad, but Grace had a way of making things seem less intense. He kissed her gently on the forehead and herded her out the door towards homeroom.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Chapter 10

Friday was superintendent's day or some such crap, so Grace was looking forward to sleeping in and not going to school. Unfortunately, Geek Boy apparently had other plans. Grace heard him come in the room and walk over to the bed. She pretended to still be asleep (which she would be if the door didn't squeak). She could feel him watching her, but tried to ignore it. Finally, she opened her eyes just enough to look past him at the clock. "Dude, what are you doing waking me up at 7 on a day I don't have to get up?" She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped he would take it as a rhetorical question and let her go back to sleep. Typically, she'd be happy to spend extra time with Luke, but they had been together all week and Grace had never been much of a morning person.

He leaned in until she could feel his breath on her face and whispered, "My dad's gone to work and my mom had to go in for meetings with the superintendent today."

"And that has exactly what to do with the fact that I am up before the sun?"

"Well, I thought that since my parents are gone, we could sleep together."

Before he finished the last word, there was a flash of activity as Grace, suddenly wide awake, simultaneously shot open her eyes, sat straight up and yelled, "What!"

Luke stood and put his hands up in defense. He quickly started moving backwards and stuttering as he tried to explain himself. "No, no, I mean sleep together, sleep together, as in nap, doze, slumber, snooze…" When he saw that she wasn't physically coming after him, he stopped backing up and waited. Disappointed with himself for making a mess of what should have been a very enjoyable morning, he wondered why it seemed like he could never say what he meant.

Grace wondered if people ever really were "scared to death". That was the last thing she had expected to hear this morning. She sat there absorbing what he had said until her heart stopped pounding and she could speak again. She took a deep breath and looked across the room at Luke. He looked terrified. He said what he said the way he said it because sex hadn't even been on his mind at that particular moment. Sometimes he could be so innocent. She smiled at him and watched him relax, just a little. "One condition. What happens here today will never…EVER…be referred to as 'cuddling'. Understood?"

"Perfectly."

Grace moved over so he could climb into the bed. He walked over a little tentatively. "Don't worry, Geek, I won't bite you. I'll save that for when we actually do have sex." She smirked when she saw him freeze for a second. She rolled over so that her back was to him so he couldn't see the flush in her face or the smile that was still threatening to crack. He put his arm around her and moved close so that his front was fit perfectly against her back. With a smirk of his own, he leaned in so that his lips were next to her ear and whispered, "Besides, this is really more like snuggling."

Because Luke was expecting Grace's violent reaction, he held her tight with the arm that was around her. Although her arms were pinned and she couldn't get much leverage, Grace was able to fight her way around so that she was facing him. She looked up at him and saw the lopsided smile and mischievous look in his eyes. How could she stay mad at that? Rather than start a rant or attempt to cause any physical harm, which she had totally planned on doing, Grace gave up and simply nuzzled her head up under his chin. She knew that his face was now showing a look of smug satisfaction, but she didn't care. It was early and she was tired and there was no place she'd rather be. She lay there with her head against him, listening to his heartbeat until it lulled her back to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Authors Note: Enough with the fluff. On with the drama!

Chapter 11

The day had come. From the moment Grace woke up Sunday morning her stomach had been churning. So had her mind. For a lot of the week she was too busy enjoying her time with Luke to think about her father's decision. But on Sunday, it was all she could think about. Every time the phone rang, her heart raced, but the call didn't come. Finally, at 6 o'clock, Grace couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the phone, then got Luke's attention and nodded to the stairs. She was trying to be inconspicuous, but unbeknownst to Grace, the entire Girardi family had been watching her carefully all day, so they all knew what she was going to do.

Grace led Luke up to "their" room and they sat in silence as Grace stared at the phone. A half hour passed before she worked up her nerve enough to make the call. She dialed her dad's office first, figuring that he would be there instead of home. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hey Dad."

"Hi Grace, how are you?"

"Fine."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Grace waited for an answer and her father hoped not to have to give her one.

"Your time's up Dad. What is your decision?"

"Grace, this is ridiculous. You have made your point, now come home! We've managed just fine the way things are so far and I'm sure that this was a one time thing. You are too young to make such rash decisions. Where would you live? How would you pay for things? Think about it Grace, you are very lucky to have a nice home with two parents and unlimited food and luxuries."

Through her clenched jaw, Grace quietly replied, "I told you. I can…not…do this…anymore. I take it that you have done nothing to get Mom help or to get her out."

"Grace, she's your mother. I can't just throw her out of our home. How would that look?"

"That's all you have to say. 'How would that look?' What about how would it feel? How would it feel to be called names and verbally degraded? How would it feel to have someone who is supposed to love and take care of you knock you down the stairs? I don't have to wonder because I know how it feels! I guess that makes no difference, does it?"

Her father sighed. "Grace, I have to go, there are people here waiting to see me. Goodbye."

Grace slowly lowered the phone to her lap and sat there staring at it. She didn't even hang it up. After a while a recorded voice came on the line to say to hang up and dial again.

Luke reached over to take the phone out of Grace's hand and hang it up. He knew he couldn't ask her, so he searched her face trying to tell what she was feeling. All at once, she looked hurt, sad, deflated, furious and devastated.

He knew nothing he could say would make it better, so he did the only thing that he could think of that might make her feel even a little better. He got up and threw a blanket over his desk and all his experiments. Then he went to his closet and pulled a cardboard box out from way in the back. He took it over and dumped the contents out on the bed next to Grace. It was a bunch of his old toys: a mini chemistry set, model airplanes, action figures, matchbox cars. He picked up one of the larger glass beakers and put it in Grace's hands. She looked up with a vacant, far-away look in her eyes. He held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. All he said before walking to the door was "Throw it."

Once he heard the first smash of glass against wall, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

Almost immediately Joan and his parents reached the upstairs hall looking startled and worried. He just shook his head and held his hand up to stop them. "Its OK, she really needs to do this."

"Let me know if you want help cleaning up later," Joan said as she touched his arm.

As his mother hugged him, she whispered, "It'll be OK, honey. Everything will work its way out." His dad gave Luke a sympathetic look then shook his head in disgust as he walked away. Once his family went back downstairs, he sat on the floor, waiting for the demolition to end and for things to get quiet again. Long before the smashing, cracking and shattering abated, the shouting and sobbing joined in. Still he waited, even though his heart was aching.

Grace finally ran out of things to break and dropped into a corner of the room. She hugged her knees up to her chest tightly and continued to weep. It wasn't until she had calmed down and nearly fell asleep of emotional exhaustion that Luke reentered the room. She was grateful for the time he had given her and for knowing exactly what she needed.

He approached her carefully. When she lifted her head to meet his eyes he could see that she was completely drained. He went to her, grabbed her hands and pulled her up to him. He protectively put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the bed. Without saying a word, he lay down on the bed and pulled her down to lay with her head on his chest. He stayed there with her until long after she had closed her eyes and her breathing became slow and even.


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Chapter 12

It was a very "pre-Luke" Grace that plodded through school on Monday. Confrontational, defiant and distant. Although she and Luke did go to the Biology closet that morning, neither of them spoke, she just sat there with her head on his shoulder. It was the only time all day that she felt almost normal.

The Girardis offered to let Grace stay a couple weeks longer, until she figured out exactly what she was going to do, so after school Grace and Luke planned on going to Grace's to get some more of her things. Her father would still be at the synagogue and Monday was her mother's garden club meeting. That morning, she took one of the photos Luke had taken of her injured face and put it in a frame. She intended to leave it on her father's desk.

As they approached Grace's house, she steeled herself for the task ahead. Luke squeezed her hand and they went inside.

Grace was shocked to see her mother coming out of kitchen. She was walking steadily and talked without trouble. She must have gotten there right before Grace and Luke and hadn't had time to start drinking yet.

"Grace! I'm so glad to see you! You're dad said you were staying a friend's house this week, but he didn't say when you were coming home. It has been so quiet here without you." Grace just stared at her. "Gracie, are you alright? You look confused."

"How can you act so normal! How can you act like everything is fine and nothing has changed?" It was her mother's turn to look confused. Realization finally set in. "He didn't even talk to you. He didn't tell you _why_ I was staying at a friends house, did he!" Her mother shook her head.

Grace pulled the framed photo out of the inside pocket of her jacket and handed it to her mother. A look of concern and outrage transformed her mother's face. "Oh my…are you alright? What happened, Grace?" She rushed over intending to pull Grace into an embrace when Grace's words stopped her.

"You. You did this to me, Mother."

Grace's mother stopped short and looked again at the photo, then back at Grace. "I…I did this?"

"That wasn't all you did," Grace yelled at her. She stood tall, looked her mother in the eye and let everything out. "After you knocked me down the stairs in your drunken rage, you chased me to my room and called me names and said hurtful things to me. What you see in the picture is just the damage you did to the outside. I'm only here today to get more of my things, but we'll come back another time…when you're not here."

Once again Grace and Luke found themselves leaving the Polanski house with high adrenaline and heavy hearts.

* * *

Sarah Polanski stood there staring at the door. Her mind was telling her to run to the door and throw it open. To go and get her only daughter and make everything better, like mothers do. But she was too much in shock and her body wouldn't obey. She looked back down at the photo of her battered child. Both her mind and her body went numb then and she crumpled to the floor in torment. The only awareness left to her was the sensation of the single tear that trickled down her cheek and landed on the picture in her hand. 

How much time passed, she didn't know. She had lost all sense of time. The next time she had a coherent thought it was already dark outside. She got up, walked into the kitchen, took a glass down from the cupboard and unscrewed the bottle before she even realized what she was doing. Getting a drink was an automatic response for her, like breathing or blinking. How had that happened? When did she go from being a devoted wife and loving mother to…to this? An oblivious, self-absorbed, hurtful harpy. She turned the bottle upside down in the sink and put the glass back in the cupboard.

Sarah spent the rest of the evening going through old photos and remembering the way Grace used to look at her, like she was her hero. There was a time when Grace's eyes held something other than pain and contempt. For the first time, Sarah realized that it hadn't been Grace's choice to alienate herself. She had earned Grace's distrust and disdain. She had pushed Grace away with her drinking.

Maybe it wasn't too late. Her husband had assumed that she either wouldn't want to or couldn't handle the truth. He was wrong. The truth was exactly what she needed to hear. Sarah picked up the phone and started making calls.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Picture Perfect

Author:Sabrinasmom3

Rating:PG

Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.

Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.

Authors Note: This story went way off course from my original idea. Mainly because I had no intention of going past Chapter 4, but I got so much encouragement from those of you who reviewed and so many of you wanted the story to continue, that it sort of took on a life of its own. Thanks to all.

Chapter 13

Rock bottom. It's a very popular phrase with the twelve-step crowd. Those two words seem so innocuous, yet what they describe alters the course of lives and defines a person's entire future. For everyone, rock bottom is something different. For some it could be ending up alone and living on the street. For others it could be ending up in the hospital. And there are still others that never live to realize they have hit it. For the lucky one's, rock bottom is an event that, although terrible enough, doesn't cause irreparable damage to others or to themselves.

Sarah Polanski hit rock bottom the moment she went numb and fell to the floor that Monday afternoon. Until then, she never believed her drinking was a problem. She never realized that what she was doing would affect anyone else. She never thought she had it in her to hurt someone she loved. She tried to recall the reasons she drank in the first place. She couldn't. She tried to understand how she couldn't have seen what was happening. She couldn't.

Alcohol is a crafty fellow. When you aren't looking, he sneaks up and puts blinders on you. He only lets you see the things that will make you feel good. He enlists the help of his friend Denial to keep you a willing captive. He takes from you your ability to recognize harm and pain and your power to control your own thoughts and actions. He tricks you into thinking that you want him to run your life and that you are better off as his hostage then you would be trying to make it out there without him. That is, until someone or something breaks through his illusions and shows you the truth.

Once Sarah was able to see the truth, the blinders and the denial were gone and she remembered that she had the power within her to choose her own destiny. She knew it was not going to be easy. Just wanting to change things would not be enough. She would have to want it bad enough to be able to endure the physical and emotional pain of breaking the hold that alcohol had over her.

Sarah called around and found a nearby hospital that had a successful detox ward, as well as an affiliated addiction treatment center. She checked herself in that night. The program rules stated that she could have no visitors and make no phone calls for the first few days, so she made sure that someone would contact her family to let them know where she was.

* * *

During dinner, the phone rang at the Girardi home. Helen called Grace to the phone then went back to the dining room to give her some privacy. Grace almost hung the phone up without taking the call. She figured it was just her dad calling to give her a hard time about upsetting her mother, but she took a chance and said hello.

"Is this Grace Polanski? This is Dr. Lewis with the New Beginnings Addiction Treatment Center. I have been asked to call and inform you that Sarah Polanski has entered our program and will be here in treatment. The program does not allow participants access to anyone on the outside for the first few days, so you shouldn't be worried if you don't hear from her. I attempted to reach Mr. Polanski, but there is no answer at the home number provided."

Grace mumbled something about letting her father know and clumsily hung up the phone. She felt as though she were underwater. She floated back into the dining room and sat down with a dazed look on her face.

"Grace, what is it? What's wrong?" She turned to Luke and the panic and concern on his face brought her back into focus. She opened her mouth, but wasn't sure what to say, so closed it again. "Is everything OK?" Grace nodded and was able to stammer out a few coherent words. "My mom…did it…got help…have to call Dad."

Luke hugged Grace tight for a few moments until her shock was gone and she could think again. She spoke to him like they were alone, even though there was a room full of Girardis. She also spoke to him with amazing speed that he had no idea she could be capable of. He was worried she might hyperventilate.

"I can't believe it! She checked herself in. My dad doesn't even know yet. In Al-Anon they said that there was nothing you can do to force someone to get help. They have to want to get better. This is good. She did this on her own. It makes her chances that much better. Don't get me wrong, I know it will be hard, but this is a good start. They won't let us see or talk to her for a few days until she's through detox, but she's at New Beginnings and someone in my group said that they are really great. I really do need to call my dad. He's probably still at the synagogue." She took a breath then and looked around the room. Her face got bright red and she smiled. "Sorry." She leapt out of her seat and went to call her dad, leaving the entire Girardi clan smiling and on the verge of tears.

Luke suddenly jumped up and started rummaging through one of the buffet drawers. He yelled a triumphant "Aha" and ran after Grace camera in hand. He wasn't about to let this moment or look on her face go unrecorded.

THE END


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